Sudden decisions

45 -He and I, together

Sanem

It's time, we've reached düğün, the day of the wedding. The past few weeks have been hectic, since I left the agency my mother has not given me a moment's respite. Everything had to be perfect, every detail taken care of to the point of exhaustion and if nothing else, this has helped me not to think about what is going to happen in my life.

I feel as if I am about to take a leap into the void and that is exactly the feeling I have in my stomach at this moment as, on my father's arm, I am climbing the steps leading to the entrance of the luxurious hotel chosen as the location for the wedding. I walk down the long corridor with gleaming floors with my heart pounding and trembling as I can't help but think of my childhood fantasies.

I have always been a dreamer, even as a little girl I used to fantasise of being a princess, of entering a huge hall, full of light, where a beautiful prince would invite me to dance. He would take my hand and my heart would beat fast, take me to the dance floor and spin me round and round. But then I eventually discovered that princes do not live life as I imagined it and the dream ended.

As we walk through the door of the reception hall, huge and full of light, among the many smiling faces of the guests, I only have eyes for him, for the handsome prince who is waiting for me near the table set up for the ceremony. I wish it were all like in my dreams, that my prince's eyes were illuminated by the purest sentiment, by true love, that of fairy tales, but what I see confirms what I have learned to my cost. Princes do not live life as I imagined it, and my dream is destined to end for good in front of the pale smile of the man who is holding out his hand to me. Once again I find myself having to decide whether to accept that invitation, once again from him comes a request to which I cannot say no. In the past I have made sudden and ill-considered decisions that made me agree to follow him, but today I have to do so for many reasons that have little to do with the romantic love of a young girl dreaming of a handsome prince.

I grasp his hand firmly without looking up at him, I don't want to look at him right now, just his touch upsets me as he walks me towards the sumptuous chair reserved for the bride and then sits at my side. I fix my gaze on the state official who takes his seat in front of us and begins to read the ritual phrases that I can hardly hear so much is the din of my heart gone mad at the idea of what I am doing. For a moment, just a moment, I miss my breath and feel the sudden urge to get up and run away. I want to run away from this fake marriage and all the people who have come here to share the joy of a union that is not there.

As if sensing my dismay Can reaches out a hand to take mine in a gesture that may seem like affection in the eyes of others, but which to me seems more like a way to make sure I don't decide to run away just yet. the Registrar brings me back to reality by turning to him.

"Can Divit intend to take Sanem Aydin here as his wife?"

Instinctively I find myself gripping his hand tighter as I stiffen hoping he will say no, put an end to this madness, but his answer soon comes in a strong, confident voice. "Yes, I do."

Here now is the officiant addressing the same question to me. "Does Sanem Aydin intend to take Can Divit here as her husband?"
Now I seem to feel him squeeze my hand tighter, I don't know whether to encourage me or as a warning not to think of doing anything rash. I don't know where this will lead us, Allah only knows that this was not what I dreamed for myself, but it is what my rash decisions have led me to experience and I have to accept it, so I try to instil confidence in my voice as I decide on my future.
"Yes, I do."
"Following your affirmative answer I, Registrar, declare in the name of the Law that you are joined in marriage, may kiss the bride."

A cheer of jubilation from everyone present greets this solemn announcement as Can invites me to stand up and approaches me. Stupidly I had not thought of this, all the worries of the past few days had left no room for fantasies about the ceremony and the fact that there would also be this: the ritual kiss. I raise my head towards him as he takes me in his arms, our gazes meet for interminable moments, I am confused, lost while his indecipherable expression leaves nothing to be seen. But here is the magic happening again, as in the darkness of a theatre or on the rocks in front of the Maiden Tower, it is enough for his lips to touch mine that suddenly everything disappears: the problems, the plots, the guilt. Everything vanishes to leave room only for the prodigy that repeats itself every time he holds me in his huge arms to kiss me in a way that, I don't know why, I am sure only with him can be so magical.